Evening Peace

Book number two is completed! I am ready to send it to
my editor at Bethany House Publishers and see what she
thinks.

Evening Peace is set in Bryson City, NC, so dismiss the
earlier posts about Beaufort. Perhaps the third
or fourth book will be the one set in Beaufort.

Meanwhile, I am continuing with freelance projects and
waiting to see what is around the corner.

And if you are ever wondering what to do--
please visit Writing the Heartache, my website
on writing through grief.

A Dozen Extra Years

I goofed. I found out today--a beautiful autumn day in
Durham, NC, by the way--that I accredited a comment from
one person to the wrong person.

This is not the way to go about winning friends and
influencing people to buy my novel. No, my novel
hasn't been published yet. Some days I wonder if it
will be published after my death.
Yes, my kind editor knows how slow I think the process
is going. I know it's all about teaching me patience,
patience, patience.

But, I digress.

I was at the Southwest Elementary School Fall Festival
earlier today and Julie was there. She told me she
enjoyed my blog.

Then Julie asked, "Is this a joke I don't know about?"

"A joke?" I said as kids around me dunked teachers in
the dunking booth and slid down the large inflatable
slide.

"Yes, I'm the one who posted the comment
about the Lock Out and last time I checked...."

"You don't live in Wales," I said with a smile. "You
live in Durham." I told her I'd change that
comment to read Julie in Durham.

So here I am changing it. Actually, I'm writing about
three hundred words to explain the situation. And hoping that
I won't confuse people. I do need friends and fans and mistaking
one person's message for another and then writing about it, is
not the way to grow my readership.

But the good news is that both Julie in Wales and Julie in
the USA are forgiving types. They're moms; they've
learned how to do this task well. If I toss a little
flattery both of their ways (did I mention what good
moms they are?), they can't help but stick with me.

Which brings me to the realization that a large part of
life is fixing the mistakes. If we never made any, how
much time would we have?

I'm guessing I'd have about a dozen extra years.